His Name Was Damian

twenty-three

Damian

Naomi looked worn out. Her hair still held in place, her makeup was still intact and her outfit that she had picked still looked perfect, but her body language was different. She seemed shy towards me, afraid what she was going to say would be the wrong thing.

"So you called my mom, huh," I ask. "Why'd you do that?"

"I got scared," She responds, putting her hands behind her back. "It felt wrong not to call her."

"You shouldn't have called her. Now she's not going to let me leave the house."

"Okay, so what? It's not it's the end of the world and I already explained the situation to her."

She already explained the situation? "How'd you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Call my mom," I pause.

She stared at the ground while I stared at her, "You can sit down you know."

She eyes the chair beside me and sits down, "You seem mad."

I am mad; I'm furious. I'm mad that I was in that room with Isla, I'm mad that I worried my friends, I'm mad that I'm in the hospital again, and I'm mad that my greatest friend doesn't think of me any greater.

"I'm not mad."

"You look like it."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't!"

My yell causes Naomi to jump; She's not used to my yelling and neither am I.

"Yes, you do," Naomi mutters. "You just don't want to admit it to yourself."

"Fine," I say shortly. "I am mad; I didn't want to come back here again."

"Yeah, I get that," She sits back in her. "But don't be mad at me."

"I am mad at you."

I keep my statement short as I stared at her hard. She only stared back at me, the surprise on her face unwavering.

"And why, may I ask?"

"Come here," I command.

"Why?" She looks so skeptical while she's staring me up and down.

"I want to whisper something to you. You know how nosy our friends are; they have to be standing by the door right now."

Naomi thought a moment before walking towards my bed, dipping down to my level.

"I really want to kiss you right now," I whisper to her.

"Damian I-"

"Don't give me that 'I don't know if it's good for you shit'; I don't want to hear it. Let me ask you this; do you like me more than a friend?"

"Yes..."

"Then what the hell is holding you back? Because I know damn well that I want to kiss but I'm asking for your permission because I'm all about consent."